“Where’s Nigel?”
She glanced back at Allie. “He’s staying at the Bellagio.”
Allie left the room. She made her way out of the house and toward the garage, where Simmons polished the side mirror on the limo.
“Can I help you with something?” he asked.
“No, I’m good. Just going for a ride.”
Chapter 21
Trevor ran a hand over his face. Allie said she loved him. Poor girl didn’t understand that he never expected a happily ever after—for his parents or himself. Mags and Nigel were like two children playacting. As soon as things got boring, they moved on to other playmates.
He’d said some very hateful things to Allie, caused her pain again, and he hated that, hated seeing that wounded look in her eyes. But he stood by it all. Love was a fantasy, a dressed-up word for passion.
Maybe it was simply time to end it. He rejected the idea immediately. No, he wasn’t through with Allison Campbell. And as long as she understood that whatever they had was temporary, they would be fine.
Of course he was fond of her. And yes, he loved being inside her, tasting her, touching her. Her response to him was like a drug, left him craving more. He liked the way she bit her lip to study the chessboard while she contemplated her next move. The way she smelled and the way she laughed and the way she cared about her family. But that wasn’t love. Far from it. That was appreciation for another person. To muck it up with talk of love was beyond ridiculous. And she needed to understand that.
He stood from behind the desk and stretched his arms over his head. He needed more coffee. Actually, he needed a swim. It would clear his head and maybe he could think of a way to clear the sadness from Allie’s eyes.
He checked his computer one last time and made his way up the stairs. Once he hit the landing, Mags walked toward him. “I thought you’d left with the other one.” He brushed by her and walked in the opposite direction toward his room.
Mags trotted along behind him. “I want to talk to you.”
“No time,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. “I’m busy today. If you need a ride to the airport, have Simmons take you.” Walking into his room, he shut the door in Mags’s face.
He shed his jacket, tie, and shirt, and had just started working the button on his trousers when the door opened and Mags strolled in. “Excuse me, Mother, I’m in the middle of something.”
She waved a hand in his direction. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, darling.” She walked to a chair next to the fireplace and sat, crossing one leg over the other.
With a sigh of resignation, Trevor rebuttoned his trousers and grabbed his shirt from the floor, slipping his arms into it. “What is it you want?”
“Shall we eat in the garden tonight?”
“I thought you were moving out?”
“No, dearest, I’ve decided to stay.”
Gritting his teeth, he clenched his fists. “For how long?”
“Well, that rather depends on you.” She rose from the chair and stepped toward him, patting his cheek. “Until you forgive me.”
His face became immobile. “No worries then. I forgave you years ago. Feel free to leave anytime.”
Mags smiled. “I’m not going anywhere, darling. You may as well get used to it.” She left the room in a cloud of sweet perfume. Goddamn Allison. This little ploy had do-gooder stamped all over it.
***
Allie knocked on the door of the suite. Nigel answered wearing a thick terry robe with the hotel initials embroidered on the chest. His eyes were bloodshot, and he hadn’t combed his wavy hair. “Allison, my dear, now is not a good time.”
She edged past him. “Yeah, yeah.” She glanced around the living room. “You don’t have a woman in here, do you?”
“Only you. Did Mags send you?” He waved her inside.
“Um, Nige, why don’t you get dressed?”
He looked down at his bathrobe and grinned. “Don’t want a repeat performance, eh?”
No, she really didn’t. One glance at little Nigel and she was still scarred. “Go pants up.”
With a sigh, he stepped around a large entertainment unit that stood in the center of the room. He came back a moment later in old jeans and a golf shirt. “So, if Mags didn’t send you…”
“I want to talk about Trevor.”
“Ah. We should head down to one of the restaurants. I need a drink for this discussion.” He snagged his room card off the side table, slipped it in his pocket, and opened the door. “After you, love.”
They rode the elevator to the seafood restaurant, and because it was early, they were quickly shown to a table. Nigel held out her chair and made sure she was comfortable before they ordered.
When his martini arrived, he nodded. “All right, love, what’s this about Trevor?”
Allie plunged once again into waters that were none of her business. “I think you should stay in Vegas.”
“What makes you think I was leaving?” Nigel stirred his drink with two speared olives.
“You mean you’re going to stick around? But Mags was headed back to England.”
“Was?” His eyes sharpened. “Have her plans changed then?”
“I don’t know, but I told her she should stay too. For Trevor’s sake.”
“Oh.” His gaze shifted to the table and he took a sip from his glass. “I thought she meant to stay for me. That she’d had a change of heart.”
“Look, Nigel, I shouldn’t butt in—”
“No, it’s all right, Allison.” He sighed deeply. “I talked to Rebecca a few weeks ago—she was wife number two—anyway, we’ve remained friendly all these years. I married her on the rebound from Mags, and it was a terrible mistake. Didn’t last more than a year, but I think Mags and I might have worked things out if I hadn’t jumped into it with Rebecca. In retaliation, Mags married her number two, that damn Spaniard.”
“So, why did you invite Rebecca to the wedding, knowing how Mags felt?”
“Rebecca’s married to an old chum of mine. Went to school with Clifford. Damn fine shot on the golf course. He once shot a birdie—”
“Nige, back to the guest list.”
“Oh, quite. Well, I thought we could put the past behind us, and once they were here, Clifford and I could play a few rounds. But you saw how Mags went barmy.”
“So, why not just uninvite them?”
He looked a little sheepish. “Don’t like to back down. It’s my wedding too, you know.”
Allie closed her eyes for a second. “Trevor nailed it, the two of you are morons.”
“I say, Allison.”
“No, I mean it. You and Mags have found each other again, after all this time. You say you love each other, you want to make amends with Trevor, but the minute you don’t get your own way, you cut and run. What is that about?”
Suddenly, Nigel sat up straight in his chair and became very starchy. “Not that it’s any of your concern—”
“I know it’s not. But sometimes you have to make compromises to be happy. And if Mags doesn’t want your ex-wife at her wedding, I think that’s a pretty reasonable request. Now, what about Trevor?”
Nigel drained his glass and motioned to the waiter. “What about Trevor? I’m staying in Vegas for the time being.”
“Have you told him you’re sorry? Have you asked him how he felt when the two of you left him and got married a zillion times?”
Nigel shifted uncomfortably. “We’re British, dear. We don’t sit around and talk endlessly about our feelings. Besides, he’s still upset about Anna.”
“Who’s Anna?”
Nigel glanced at the waiter. “Keep them coming, please. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long afternoon.” He gave Allie a look as dry as his martini. “Trev didn’t
tell you about Anna?”
Her stomach fell fourteen stories and kept dropping. “No.”
“Trevor dated her a few years back. Nothing serious, but she was my fifth. Wife that is.”
Allie blinked. “You married Trevor’s ex?” No wonder he hated his father.
Nigel popped an olive in his mouth. “It’s not like he was serious about her. They casually dated for a couple months. I apologized.”
“You apologized? For marrying Trevor’s girlfriend?”
Nigel straightened. “She wasn’t his girlfriend at the time. They’d broken up, you see.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” she hissed.
“What do you want me to do? I’ve tried to get him to play a round of golf, but he’s always working.”
“You think bonding over a round of golf is going to fix this?” Did Trevor still care about this Anna? No wonder he didn’t believe in love. There was no hope for them. She’d known it all along, but she’d let herself believe.
Her phone rang, breaking her train of thought. She groped in her bag and pulled it out. “Sorry, it’s Brynn.”
“Take it, dear.” He sipped at his drink and glanced around the room.
“What’s wrong?” Allie said in lieu of greeting.
“I’m in trouble, Al.” Brynn sniffed a few times. “I got in a fight.”
Allie’s body froze. “Are you all right? Are you still at school?”
“Yeah, can you come and get me? Dad’s out on a job, and I’m in the principal’s office.”
“I’ll be right there.” She hung up and looked at Nigel. “I have to go. Brynn’s been in a fight.”
Nigel hopped up from his seat and pulled out his wallet, throwing a few bills on the table. “I’ll go with you, my dear.”
She didn’t waste time arguing but fled the restaurant, Nigel at her heels.
***
She and Nigel checked in at the front office and sat on stiff chairs, waiting to see the principal. Allie nervously clutched her bag in her lap.
Nigel reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “Brynn’s a good girl, Allison. Everything is going to be all right.”
It seemed like everything had gone haywire today. Brynn didn’t get in fights. She didn’t like conflict of any kind.
Allie glanced up at Nigel. For some reason, his casual, nonchalant air was calming.
A middle-aged woman with a short, wispy hairstyle moved toward them. “Mr. Campbell? I’m Mrs. Stanford, Assistant Principal.”
Allie stood up and held her bag in front of her. “I’m Allie Campbell, Brynn’s sister and emergency contact. This is—”
“Nigel Blake.” He rose and shook the woman’s hand.
“I can’t believe Brynn got into a fight,” Allie said. “She’s a straight-A student. Maybe she mentioned that?”
“Step into my office, please.”
Nigel stayed behind as Allie followed the vice principal. Her little sister sat in one chair, facing the desk.
Allie dropped to the other seat, her eyes scanning Brynn “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
Brynn kept her gaze on her lap and shook her head. “I’m okay, Al.”
“Miss Campbell, your sister and another girl had a heated exchange and Brynn threw a punch. The other girl managed to duck and tackled Brynn to the floor. A teacher broke it up before things could escalate.”
“Is that what happened?” Allie asked.
Brynn studied her fingernails and shrugged.
Allie glanced at Mrs. Stanford. “Do you know what this was about?”
“I believe one of our staff, Ms. Castor, is dating your father?”
“Oh, great.” Allie slouched in the chair and covered her eyes with one hand.
“We have a zero-tolerance policy for violence in this school. Brynn will spend the next two weeks on in-house suspension and this will go on her permanent record.
“Starting when?” Allie asked.
“Tomorrow. You can take her home now.” She stood, crossed the room, and opened the door.
“Come on, Nigel’s waiting.”
Brynn got to her feet and shuffled out of the office. “Sorry, Al,” she whispered.
“Hello, my darling.” Nigel enfolded Brynn in his arms, and she hugged him back. He held her hand as they headed outside into the bright sunshine.
“What were you thinking?” Allie asked after they all climbed into the car.
Brynn shrugged again.
“Enough with the shrugging. That Stanford woman said you threw the first punch.”
“Layla Anderson said some crap, and I just lost it.”
She refrained from asking anymore questions on the ride home. When Allie parked in front of her old house, she turned to Nigel. “Do you want to take the car back to the hotel?”
“Oh no, I can take a taxi.”
Inside the house, Nigel made himself at home on the saggy, ripped couch. He picked up the remote and flipped through the channels. “Where’s the golf channel, Als?”
“We don’t have cable, Nige.”
“Oh.” He looked a little forlorn.
“I’ll be right back. Do you want something to drink or eat? We never did get lunch.”
Nigel waved her off. “No, darling, I’m fine.”
“Brynn, go get started on your homework and I’ll make you a snack.”
Once in the kitchen, Allie called Trevor. He answered on the first ring.
“Where in the bloody hell have you been?”
“Can Simmons come and pick up your dad?”
“What the … Where are you?”
“Home.”
“At your father’s house, then?”
“Yeah. Brynn got into a fight and is suspended.”
“Where does my father fit into this picture?”
“I was having lunch with him when I got the call from Brynn.”
She heard him take a deep breath. “Allison, listen to me. Those two nut jobs are not worth the effort.”
“What? You…break…up…send…Sim…” And she hung up. She didn’t want a lecture right now, she just wanted to make sure Brynn was okay until her father got home.
She threw together sandwiches for Brynn and Nigel, along with cookies and glasses of iced tea. She put everything on a tray and carried it to the living room. Nigel sat back, his legs crossed, engrossed in a talk show that had turned into a free-for-all with the audience members.
He hopped up when he saw her, took the tray, and set it down on the coffee table. He pointed to the screen. “Turns out, he’s not the father of her child after all. They just released the DNA results and all hell broke loose. You Americans.”
She reached over and flicked off the set. “What are you going to do about Mags? About Trevor?”
He took a long sip of iced tea and winced. “I don’t know, Als.”
“Do you love Mags, Nigel? Really love her?”
“I do. I desperately love her. But it’s too late. She’s already taken me back once. There’s not going to be a third act, love.”
She sat next to him and patted his knee. “Tell her you were wrong to want your ex at the wedding. Let Mags know she matters to you.”
He gazed at the carpet and back up at Allie. “Do you really think she’d take me back? You don’t know how long it took to win her affections for the second time. I could be well into the grave before she gives me another go.”
“It might help if you didn’t marry the first woman who flashes her boobs.”
“Well, quite.”
“Okay,” she said, slapping her knees and popping to her feet. “I’m going to see about Brynn.”
Nigel grabbed the sandwich with one hand and turned the TV back on with the oth
er.
Allie took the tray to the girls’ room. With her hands full, she kicked the door gently with her foot. “Brynn, open up.”
Brynn opened the door and preceded Allie to the bed, tumbled onto it, and pulled a pillow over her face. “I hate my life.”
Allie set the tray on the bedside table and pulled the pillow off Brynn. “We all hate our lives at one point or another. But you’ll get through this, Brynnie.”
“What’s to hate about your life? It seems pretty perfect from where I’m sitting.”
The man Allie loved not only didn’t love her back, but he didn’t believe in the emotion, had been permanently scarred by his parents and ex-girlfriend. She hadn’t heard from Monica in weeks, and she wasn’t talking to her dad. Yeah, things were great.
“Nobody’s life is perfect. And you will get through this. What I want to know is”—she hopped on the bed next to Brynn, making the mattress bounce—“why you got in a fight in the first place.”
“Stupid Layla. She said that the only reason I got an A on my paper was because my dad was fuc…er, boinking Ms. Castor. I said my command of the English language probably helped, and that if she would come up for air, instead of blowing half the football team, maybe she would pass the class.”
Allie sat in shock, her eyes wide. “Brynn, you don’t talk like that.”
“Well, I won’t anymore. One time I mouth off, I get in trouble. Dad is going to kill me.”
“No, he’s not. He might ground you, but kill you? No, it’s too hard to hide a body.”
Brynn fell back on the bed and gave an almost laugh.
“So, you threw the first punch?” Allie asked.
“No, someone pushed me into Layla, and she thought I hit her, and well, you know the rest. The algebra teacher, Mrs. McCrady, saw me get physical first, so it was my fault. I tried to tell them what happened, but it didn’t do any good.”
Brynn picked up the pillow and held it over her face again. Allie closed her eyes and lay quietly next to her sister for a while. Finally, she rallied.
“Try and eat something, hon.” She climbed off the bed and made her way to the living room.
Trevor sat in the big easy chair, glaring at his father. Nigel untwisted an Oreo and licked the creamy center.
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